


Wrench Got Heart Eyes

by Persephone_Raine



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Best Friends, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 12:56:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17386853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephone_Raine/pseuds/Persephone_Raine
Summary: Wrench has heart eyes, and it's cute. What's not cute, is when someone takes his Marcus away.





	Wrench Got Heart Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a fic for this fandom soooo I hope it comes out good. I absolutely fell in love with Wrench and Marcus's relationship. I had to.

Wrench got heart eyes.

Everyone saw it once or twice, Marcus for himself, a handful more than the others. He thought it was a joke at first until it happened when he helped carjack one of the fancy new Teslas just for him to cruise around in for a little. “Come get in, man!” The hipster chuckled when he fishtailed right around the corner of the DedSec operations garage, throwing the suicide doors open. The lights on the mask widened to giant circles, and Marcus didn’t need to look to know he was absolutely beaming. “No fucking way!” The anarchist’s face lit up with carets when he hopped in.

They took off without any care in the world, no destination. “How the fuck did you do it, man?!” Wailed Wrench, hand holding the roof with the window down letting it blow his hood down to expose his ashy blonde head for once.

“It’s me, do ya really gotta ask?” Chorused Marcus, passing him a glance and catching those heart eyes. He flirted with everyone, he held his hand and hugged him in random moments, and no doubt they loved each other. He just didn’t expect it to be that way. Yet, something inside himself felt settled. His smile went from shocked to a familiar warm kindness that radiated through Wrench’s whole middle.

For the rest of the ride, no one said anything. They let the music talk, and slowly, the hipster moved his hand from the center console to grip onto the anarchist’s heavily inked fingers. The mask blinked from the normal x’s too wide circles, narrowing down to his action, back to him with a question mark. Settling once he didn't move, he turned his hands up to lace together with his, the heart eyes returning just moments later. That was something someone else would’ve deemed weird as shit, but for them, it always fit.

Every moment with the two of them was natural. Wrench was batshit with a side of technical genius, not to mention handy with explosives, and pyrotechnics. Marcus was handy with computers, quick with a gun, and loyalty with a golden fuckin’ heart to match. He was every bit of what he couldn’t be. Grew up in an understanding, loving family. He didn’t. But it never seemed to matter, because if there was one person he knew would never judge him, that was Marcus.

“Hey, Wrench!” He called out, kicking the door open with the toe of his foot while holding the boxes of pizza and a two liter in his left hand. “Some help me with this shit, man. The plastic is cuttin’ my circulation!”

The anarchist popped up from the sofa with exclamation points on his face, quickly hopping over the top of the sofa. “Pizza!” He chorused, his synthesized voice unable to hide the excitement. He bound over twirling the cardboard from his hands setting it on the table. When he returned he circled Marcus’s hips in a hug with the happy little carets back. “I love you! So much!” He began to rain kisses, and Marcus laughed trying to pry away chorusing, “Alright, alright! I’m fuckin’ starvin’, man.”

“Me too, actually.” He broke away from the black male marveling at how nice it was when he smiled. His whole face truly lit up with golden flecks of the shitty lights above them. Sometimes it felt like he wasn’t really there at all, he was elusive in every way and he didn’t even seem to understand it. “Where are the others?” he asked, not used to the silence in the workspace anymore.

“Sitara was working on some kinda meeting or something, Josh had a playdate.” The fondness in his tone radiated when he lounged back on the couch with a beer and piece of extra-large pepperoni pizza, “So it’s you and me, Black Beauty.”

Marcus snorted at that one in amusement, rolling his eyes at him when he simply sat on his legs like it was normal. “What’d you do all day?” Questioned Wrench, giving him the ¬¬ as if he knew some dirty little secret he was trying to hide.

“ _Well_ ,” Marcus began fetching the remote from over the anarchist’s hood biting down on the bubbling greasy goodness he longed to get his stoned mouth on. He swore his dick twitched in tight ass pants from just how fucking seductive the cheese and pepperoni was trying to fuck his taste buds. “I dug around into some company tying into some small businesses around here, swindling money, running game on inexperienced people.” Noting the shift side eye he asked, “What do you think I did?”

“You didn’t get here on time for me to get a nap before our movie marathon tonight. _Remember?_ ” He drawled, dramatically throwing his arm over his mask, “Oh, Marcus. You don’t love me anymore.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He swatted at his midsection leaning down to fetch his beer. Wrench’s mask lit up with pleased little lines before it went back to the usual x’s, “Some of us got work to do.”

“I did work. I played with cool new toys all day.” He dropped his voice, a suggestive twist when his eyes did the @ at him, “And they’re rechargeable Marcus, and it goes hella fast.”

“Can’t wait to see it,” Marcus said as if it wasn’t anything different than casual conversation despite the total rager the inked up kid he was sitting on was getting. Wrench tilted his mask up to sip his beer, and Marcus couldn’t help but glance from the corner of his glasses, catching sight of the pretty blue underneath. He was quick to glance away when he made eye contact, not meaning to invade on his privacy none.

He got more comfortable around him with it lately, though. It was still such touchy subject and for reasons, Marcus had yet to unfold, and that, to him, was fine. Wrench would come around, or maybe he wouldn’t. All that matters is that DedSec is a family, and he’s who he is now. Not what he was before. “Do you ever wonder?” Wrench asked suddenly. “I mean - everyone does.” His eyes peered with question marks, then widened at him, hesitating.

Marcus nodded, licking along is teeth wiping the grease from his little mustache with the back of his designer hoodie. “Of course. But that’s all your own stuff, man. Just matters you’re here now, and maybe you might talk about it someday.” He reached over just in time as Wrench did to clap their hands together, “We got each other now.”

He loved how he said it. He loved how he meant it. Marcus caught the heart eyes this time. Biting his lower lip he sat his pizza down back in the box on the cluttered coffee table. Wrench thought he caught it in time, but something about the sudden stoic nature of Marcus’s usual fluid movements made Wrench pause. The hipster straddled his hips, lifting up his mask enough to expose his mouth.

There was a surge of panic momentarily when his mouth tasted pure dingy air of the garage instead of the filtered kind from his mask. “What-” Cupping his chin, he pressed his full soft lips up against his like plush pillows of sin just waiting to drink him in. Every little dream Wrench had about this moment was everything he hoped it would be. He didn’t bitch that the mask was kind of scraping his nose uncomfortably, or that the kiss went from something so innocent to quickly dirty and needing.

The anarchist gripped his hips snapping them up to feel the full swollen girth grinding right down against his. The answering groan Wrench yelped out struck so many of the right nerves, and Marcus shuddered fully. He coiled with the pleasure the taste of the punk’s mouth tasted, beer, weed, and pizza, but perfection. His tongue was expertly swirling around, tasting, tracing… He retreated to breathe, the mask going right back in place and the moment was over.

“Fuck.” Wrench panted, biting the corner of his lower lip thankful that the mask hid the bashful face behind it.

The grin on the other man’s face was something otherworldly, especially when he said, “You seem to have another problem to handle.” He motioned with his seductive dark eyes to the full size of his cock pressing against his leg.

“Why don’t you handle it if you’re so fucking worried about it?” He demanded, partly joking, but no way in hell passing this opportunity up if he was gonna give him a handy.

“Fine.” He answered, not caring that anyone could walk in on what was gonna take place. He was quick to undo his pants and free the weeping cock begging for attention. Wrench hitched a choked breath when the hipster's hot mouth swallowed him in like it was nothing. He took his time with him, focusing solely on getting him off. “F-fuck, Marcus!” He rushed out in a hushed whisper gripping the back of his head as he tracked his head in slow, steady bobs along his erect member.

He moaned in reply to his pleasured little whine, pressing the pad of his tongue up under his swollen head when he pulled his head up, his tongue sinfully poking out of his pretty mouth when he moved to focus his soft suckles on his tip alone. He was so good at what he was doing, and there was no way in fuck he was gonna last. “Don’t stop.” He begged lightly, bucking up when his soft hands came up to massage his balls. Everything in him was weak, every little tweak and grope sending bolts of lightning through his whole entire being. He was playing him like a fiddle and by God wrench would let him have him if it meant this heavenly moment never ending.

“I’m so close.” He announced just in time for Marcus to become adamant suddenly on making it happen. His mouth was making the most obscene wet suckles he’s ever heard out of anyone. His cock was slick with spit, his glasses fogged form how hard he was breathing out of his nose. Gripping his head he began to buck up into his mouth milking every single inch of his pulsing need with that expert mouth.

“Hold on, baby, I’m cumming,” He panted breathlessly, shoving his cock down his throat the moment he released in thick hot ropes. He sputtered, and the anarchist released the hipster’s hold just in case he was a spitter. It was the hottest thing when Marcus stared him dead in the eyes as he swallowed every single bit of it, even helping to clean up the leak he made. Wrench was breathless, his mask blanks when he fell slack on the couch.

Marcus was grinning, helping to fix him back into his pants. When he opened his eyes again, he saw those delicious dark eyes hovering over him. He reached up carefully to cup his mask since that was the closest thing he could get to him when Wrench stopped him. He sat up making him back up some, almost tumbling back over the table. Wrench dropped his hood and removed the mask revealing the exhausted, but devastatingly beautiful man beneath it.

He smiled at him, knowing this was something difficult for him to do. Marcus said nothing, just drawing his palm up to tenderly caress his face. He pressed their lips together in a more solid kiss, something that told them both that this meant something. It was more than a one time sort of thing. It was weird, but it was them for sure. “Thank you,” Wrench answered, for once not feeling all too bad about exposing himself to him.

“No problem, man.” He responded with a loving smile, “I got your back ‘til the end.”

Who knew the end would come so quick, though.

Who knew any of this was gonna happen.

Marcus shouldn't have gone out to investigate the suspicious underground activity. It was another supposed cyber attack, but only, it was some sort of conspiracy between oil fracking companies, and a happy little congressman who had a sick taste for little boys... “Marcus already figured it out.” Josh realized, Wrench, Ray, and Sitara all circled around the large monitor staring back at them. “I-It’s too easy to open a-and look-”

He pointed to the links embedded in the codes, and fuck he was right. “Why would he go investigate this without telling us?!” Wrench roared with a rage flashing nothing but pure red behind his eyes. The mask flashed slanted pissed off slants. Every muscle in him tensed up, each centimeter of the mass a viper springing to strike at the first motherfucker who crossed him, no matter who they were.

“Wrench, _quiet down_ -” Ray attempted, throwing up his hands to stop him from grabbing the sledgehammer waiting right in the corner.

“Don’t tell me to quiet down!” He shouted, barrelling right over to knock that fucking sympathetic look off his fucking face. “Marcus is in _jeopardy!_ He left a full thirteen hours ago, to track some man who has ties with Russia and a sex ring! I can’t find any trace of him on _any_ camera sights around, _nowhere!”_ Exclamation points answered before the backslashes returned, and he stomped off throwing one of his newly composed contraptions at the metal wall with an intensified yell.

 _“Wrench!”_ Sitara snapped, daring to get in his way her eyes narrowing with worry and grief in her eyes. “Falling apart right now will not do us any good in finding him goddamnit, you understand?” She ceased in a subdued whisper. “Russians, especially allies of our government, are not gonna take it easy on him.”

“They’re cruel,” Ray concluded. “We need to figure out where they are and pronto, log into wherever Marcus last tapped into.”

Josh has already bunched over typing and tapering away at the screen after screen after screen when Wrench finally managed to tranquilize himself down enough to hearken to understanding. It was definitely unconventional because Marcus is, and always had been, the voice of reason. He was the empath who consumed every ounce of negative energy and made it okay again. The delicate touch of his palms on his shoulder, on any part of him.

He was always affecting him because he needed it just as severe. Huffing, Wrench placed his palms down on the table gazing down at it when his eyes went vacant. He closed his eyes against the enraged tears in his perceptions. He genuinely admired Marcus, and they got fortunate last time something like this occurred. He knew something was awry last time, and he was correct then too. Sitara observed, catching the little dots across his eyes.

She wandered over skimming a consoling arm around his slender waist. He and Marcus were close, and she knew why. They had chemistry from the get-go, and it was no wonder to her when she caught the yearning stares. They had a connection that was unlike any other, and she wasn’t stupid to be seeing the hearts in his eyes when he passed a look his way every day. “He’s gonna be fine.” She reassured him, feeling the troubled stare even through that screen. “We’ll find him. We’ll bring him home.”

Marcus had never been in such pain in all his life. Doubled over, hands bound behind his back, fuck, he screwed up. The cement room was as chilly as his freshest nightmare. Blood dribbled from the cut in his lower and upper lip, a blood clot working from the crooked remnants of his nose. It’d been a simple loophole, he should have known better than to trust it. He was so moved to break the case, and to just… Study it. He dipped into the files of Michael Ponte, one of the most esteemed congressmen that could be in power, and caught wind of a white tie, masquerade style event.

He thought he was safe. Oh no, far from it. He was the only one in costume, and he was the main entertainment.

Pulling up to the giant four-story house, Marcus whistled through his teeth when the chauffeur let him out. Dressed in the most embellished tuxedo he could find, Marcus slid on just an uncomplicated white and black masquerade mask, blocking off half of his face. He vaguely wondered if Wrench would like this sort of thing, except for the whole dressing up part that is. “Is this your destination Mr. Williams?” He asked, eyeballing the dark man in the backseat.

If he was suspicious of his identity, he didn’t say so. The drive was an old man in his 60’s with eyes that resembled an eagle’s with how intense the golden flecks of honey in his eyes were. Glancing up from his phone, he smiled at him as fair and as brilliant as ever, the simper of a deceiver. “It is, thanks to you.” He fisted the fifty in his pocket, leaning forward to put it smack in his hand. “Thank you.”

He peered down at his phone finding the placement of where Michael was. There were so many rooms, and so many cameras overlooking the place. It felt like he peeled off his clothes and walked in there completely exposed. He had nothing but a gun on his waist, his phone in his pocket, and a solid plan to put a hole in this man’s head and make it look like the guilt of all the sex slaves finally overcame him. But it was himself, Marcus, who brought justice to him. Smirking, he got out and headed inside.

He found him sitting at a large square table next to the room where the little band played. Narrowing his eyes through the contacts in his eyes, he looked closer to the phone screen apprehending something entirely - no one else dressed in any sort of disguises. The handsome man in his late forties stood, brown hair slicked back to expose the sharp features matching all of Marcus’s mugshots. Michael tapped on the glass, rising above the chatter of noisy little rats of the government.

He wasn’t shocked, circling around the room from his little spot outside using the inside cameras through his phone screen, to see some of the most notable faces of authority, figures of the greatest audience, and the people who could dig and work the black market like a goddamn fiddle. “I would like to thank you all for joining me,” Said Ponte with a grin able to fool even the craftiest of fools, “I hope you all have enjoyed the main course.”

There was a round of agreeing murmurs, and he chuckled. It was full of toxic courtesy that he by no way meant at all. “Now, I promised you all a damn good show. Did I not? The band is absolutely exceptional, however…” His voice dropped suddenly, something sinister slithered in through the wall. It was lucid like liquid shatter oozing in from the cracks in his two-faced personality. “I have a special guest, one of the most influential people on the FBI’s most wanted list…”

Michael looked into the camera at the same time it zoomed in. “Congratulations, Marcus Holloway. You’re just in time for your show.” He looked up in time to see a bag being launched over his head, and a belt going right to his gut. He persisted for all he had, phone clattering and fragmenting right by his feet. “Let go of me!” He rasped out, beating the electronic down into the bushes. He fisted at the tightly braided rope digging into his raw ebony hide, thrashing for all he had.

He had too much to live for, he had to come home. The others would freak out if he didn’t come back this time. Wrench would fall the fuck apart. He threw a blow into someone, and he beamed hearing a body slump back. Just when he seized the sack scratching up his face and making him sweat from his own hot breath, there was a sharp pinch to his lower back sending horrifying bolts of electricity through him. His whole being was buzzing beyond energy he could manage.

 _“Fuck!”_ He sounded, stumbling forward when it only got higher, more amplified. His vision blurred, and he began to involuntarily jerk and shudder hard enough to break his neck when he tumbled forward colliding with the hard cement stairs.

Michael stood over the spy’s body staring down at him with such a horrid expression of disgust. He looked to the masked men at his side muttering, “Silence him for now. We want the others. DedSec doesn’t leave any of its pathetic members behind.” He stepped over him muttering as an afterthought, “No matter how ignorantly blinded they are.”

When he came back, he was in a room tied to a chair, a single light bulb between him and his captor, like an old style hostage movie. “This is how I’m gonna go, huh?” Marcus laughed bitterly, looking into the cold eyes of the Russian guard before him. “You’re willing to kill me before you get any answers?”

The confrontation wasn’t the hard part, the answers were simple to avoid. “We’ll go down the line. It shouldn’t be hard for us to break the cute little firewalls you have.” He spoke, voice sharp like shattered fragments of a glass vase. “We found the head of the organization. We don’t need much else, the rest will follow.”

“So you think,” Marcus grumbled, trying to sit up from where he was toppled over in his chair, his midsection begging for some sort of relief from the delivered kicks to it. He was tired, and in pain, and God help these people when DedSec got to him, he thought bitterly tasting the nasty bile after taste on the back of his throat. If he knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t keep talking.

The dark-haired Russian threw a direct punch to his middle sending a thin puddle of puke all over the ground before him. Marcus cried out with a furious cry of pain that echoed around the acoustic bearing walls. “Where are the others?!” He demanded, gripping his shirt and throwing him back not caring the pain searing up his arms trapped under him and the thick wood of the chair he was tied to.

“I won’t tell!” He roared with tears of hot pain building up in his eyes. “You’re fucking dead when they find you, I hope to God Wrench gets you first.” He added with a dark venomous spit. “I’m never turning into my people. It’s called loyalty, you’re just pissed because we found where your real money is coming from, and we’re not gonna stop until every single one of you sick pedo bastards-”

The man grabbed a nearby stick ready to beat him into oblivion when a voice rang out over the loudspeaker, “I think that’s enough for right now, Afanasi.” Michael’s voice rang out from a buzzer somewhere in the corner of the wall. “Let him rest. No doubt DedSec has already tracked him down.”

He threw a dark grimace Marcus’s way, and he smiled a blood toothy smile in reply to the sick motherfucker. “Go back to daddy.” He taunted, letting his eyes fall shut. The silence was beyond welcomed when he walked out, leaving him to answer to the devastation in his body. Hot warm pain flooded through his whole being, drowning out every other sense to him. He could taste the metallic rush of blood down his throat, hear it rushing out of his ears from how hard his head pulsed.

He breathed out a pained moan when a familiar voice rang through the speaker from somewhere in the room, “Marcus? Marcus, are you there?” Josh’s voice rang out, monotone, but even he could pick out the hints of his crippling anxiety from under the soft-spoken mumbles.

“Josh, man, is that you?” He croaked out, feeling sweet relief bubbling through him. “Man, this shit is whack.” He laughed. “I fell for a trap.”

“If you would’ve waited for us like a team-” Wrench’s synthesized voice rang through shaking his very being. If he wanted to cry before, he really wanted to now. It was the most potent jab in the gut he received all night. “Let me talk to him!” There was a scuffle that made a sharp ring bristled his ears making him hiss.

“Ignore him.” Josh’s voice broke through again. “We’re coming to get you, just. Hold tight.”

Not like he could go anywhere anyway. He could have smiled, but all he could hear was the panic registering in the little punk’s voice, even through the mask. He could picture his devastated face when he found out exactly what he’d been up to. “M, I’m going to fucking kill you when I get my hands on you, and that’s a solid 10/10 promise,” Wrench told him. “But just. Hold on tight. We’re on the way - I’m, I’m closest. I’m gonna show them human chaos.” He added as a devil muttering its plans to a nun. “I’m gonna tear their arms off their bodies and shove them up their own asses.”

 _“Ow.”_ He laughed, weak, tired, winded. Wrench caught on feeling his heart shatter hearing just how muffled and minute Marcus was.. “I’m sorry, man.” He told him honestly. “I didn’t think this was… Was gonna happen, I came to just eyeball the place.”

“You should have told someone, damn it!” He bellowed, punching the steering wheel. He was weaving in and out of the crowds of cars, scraping the expensive paint on the side making him cringe. So much for returning this in one piece. “Now - now you did put yourself in a fucky situation.”

There was only the labored sound of the black man’s breathing on the other line, and with each shuddered murmur Wrench got anxious to get to him. He had to tap out to avoid hitting the car in front of him spotting that gated community so high up on the hills like Beverly. He would embed boom-booms all around the house so all the fuckers would burn for hurting him, his Marcus. Sitara was stalling and rerunning the cameras to mask M’s escape, and Wrench’s break-in. Josh and Ray were securing the actual logistics to guide him through the halls.

Parking outside the fence Wrench ran up behind the guard just in time to cold cock him with the barrel of his gun and knock him out cold. Reaching over, holding the bald man’s throat in a headlock, he unlocked the gate to get him up. “Hold on, M.” Wrench whispered, “I’m coming for you.”

There was commotion, and Marcus knew they’d been caught. “Go get him, go!” Ponte’s voice roared with a collective urgency of a man running low on time. Marcus scrambled, one of his hands broken free. His right arm was broken for sure and it hung at a limp level that blinded him with pain anytime it got remotely moved. Yelling out in agony, Marcus fell onto his stomach slapping the ground when he attempted to move his elbow.

The door flew open and Marcus was yanked up by his shoulders, vision blurred by the swelling of his eye socket. “You’re gonna get it,” He drawled in a drunken-like slur. It was mostly from the fact he was dead weight on his feet being drawn by a force that wasn’t his own, “No matter what happens, DedSec won’t die, even if I do. You’ll just give ‘em more purpose.”

“If you knew what was good for you,” Michael ejected, throwing him down face first at the top of the stairs, grimacing down at him with his own silenced pistol facing the back of his head, “you’d shut the fuck up.” He cocked the gun, lifting him up by his chin showing him off to Wrench being - hardly limited by the masked tuxedos before him. Upon those electronic eyes finding him, they went wide - then blank.

It was like he couldn’t calculate at all what he felt regarding the strongest member out of all of them, the most sensible, empathetic one, beaten to a pulp, for once looking like he might just give up to escape his own turmoil. “Let him go.” Wrench boiled, seeing the perfection of the hipster's face covered and distorted with lots of bruises and color like those old programs he used to play back in elementary school. He couldn’t perceive his eyes, and maybe that’s what really bothered him deep down. He couldn’t study him like he studied encrypted codes so easily.

“DedSec has been a pain in our asses for a long, long time now…” He began, shaking Marcus and rattling his eyeballs like marbles in a blender. Wrench lunged for him, mighty hands gathering up in a fist that just waited to swing on the next motherfucker to reach him. “And I’m giving you an ultimatum.” He snarled, drilling the barrel deep into the black kid’s skull at his feet.

“Let it be the dominant white man to take him down.” Wrench said, eyes doing the equivalent of an eye roll.

“You delete every single inch of information on what you found,” He put his finger on the trigger, removing the safety. Dread set in his stomach because Marcus knew he’d die for these people. He’d die for their cause, his friends, his family. Wrench knew it very well too. “Or we kill him. Then you. We’ll drag it out, we’ll wait until you think you’re safe…”

He turned the gun, grinning down at Marcus who felt the sobs rising up from his abdomen. “And kill you. Fuck, your family if that’s what it takes.” Michael dipped his head, scrutinizing at Wrench who pierced his narrowed eyes at him. “What do you say?”

Wrench couldn’t look at the discouraged way the tears surged down Marcus’s blood-soaked face, soiled from the fight he fought to put up. “Or,” Came his synthesized voice, “We can do it my way. Wrench style, baby!” The carets came to his mask when he hoisted his arm pressing the small button concealed inside his fingerless gloves, the walls splitting in the rubble, deafening everyone’s ears in the process. Wrench lost his mask when he did the same with his foot, bounding in the direction Marcus was fumbling forward from the pebbles exploding from the chunks of walls storming in like a reverse atom bomb.

He’s worried about that lately. His ankle was tingling like something grave, but Si was just metering down the road, the van lights blasting. He had one task at hand. And one task only. Wrench grasped for the ashy fingers sunken under a section of costumes and drywall, feeling the faint pulsation of Marcus’s body. He didn’t have a clue if he was taking onto the good or bad side of him, all that mattered was he had him.

The shrieking in his ears never ended even after he lifted up Marcus’s debilitated body assisting him on his shoulder. Wrench’s heart gave a stringent snap noticing him so fucking frail. All his worst nightmares splayed right here before his very eyes. Nevermind he was petrified at the fact he had no idea where his beloved mask was, but his best friend wasn’t responding to him. “Hold on.” He urged in a plea so shot, so split like brittle eggshells under chunky boots, “Hold on, M.”

Sitara had witnessed Wrench upset - but never to the point of stillness.

She swooped in dashing in to help move him to the van. She detected the familiar stalks of Wrench’s disguise, his goggles a little cracked, but working nonetheless. “Get him inside,” she demanded, Ray and Josh, throwing open the back of the van doors to let him lay down on the floor of it. Wrench lay him down, staying beside him shooting glares at whoever crossed his precious boy.

They couldn’t go to the hospital with this. They weren’t safe. Shooting a pointed glare from beneath the signature burn mark on his eye, he reached for the laptop holding all the explosives detonation codes. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” Ray whispered, trying to keep his eyes from the exposed face of the kid. He knew he was touchy about it.

Wrench spared no expense to hit the spacebar the moment they broke the trigger point threshold of the gates. With a deafening rumble, the whole place exploded, leaving behind no evidence that any of this had gone down today. But Wrench had every reason to worry about the pieces he had to pick up. “Is he breathing?” Sitara asked in alarm, passing Wrench his mask before he could go into a full blown panic.

“I-I think so,” Josh muttered, desperately trying to check out his arm. “He’s hurt, I…” His eyebrows pulled together worriedly, running his fingers through his hair with a worried hiss through his teeth. “Oh, God, he’s gonna have to go to the hospital.”

“No.” Wrench snapped. “W-we’ll find someone else to come, one of us. If they get a trace of him in the system, it’ll ruin everything we did today!” His hands kept wrapped in Marcus’s, little slants for eyes near the upper cracked brim.

“We’ll wipe him out.” Sitara murmured, reaching over to place her hand on her shoulder. “He needs professional help, Wrench. He’s alive - for now. We don’t know what kind of damage went down.”

Wrench was quiet, little dots drifting across his goggles as he thought. Slowly, his fingers linked together through Marcus’s just as the tears in his eyes came, choking him with a grimace of hate for himself for not getting there quick enough. For not following after him. He wanted to fucking destroy the whole fucking world because he wasn’t moving, not squeezing his fingers, not shooting him a witty remark.

No one said anything when Ray turned back in the direction of the hospital. Josh and Sitara were busy cleaning up the mess left behind on the deep web, Wrench protectively guarding over Marcus until he was torn from him. He kicked at the van, punched it, kicked it again and again and again - all until he gave up with an auto-tuned sigh and slumped outside the building. Sitara clung to him tightly, letting him lean on her. Letting him sit in is misery for the man he loved - they all loved. “He’d die for us all. I saw it.” He told her. “I hope those fuckers burn alive, they fucking die for the peoples’ innocence they stripped from them like it was nothing.”

His eyes narrowed into slits, turning to look at her with question marks on his face, “Do you think he’s gonna be okay?”

“No doubt.” She Reassured him, the mascara smudged under her eyes letting him know, at some point tonight this hard ass softie shared his same anxieties as well. “Wrench… You and Marcus, have you guys addressed this actual sexual tension?”

“He blew me.” He summed up, the smile there in his voice as if more than gleeful to spread his personal business - literally. “So it’s not so sexual tension as it is, just sex.”

She grimaced in disgust at the details, but the smile on her face answered for how joyful she was for them. “It’s only a matter of time, but you have to realize, we can’t let this whole thing… Divide us. Marcus made a stupid choice,” She agreed when Wrench threw his finger up to object her speech - “But, he’s breathing. He’s getting help, he’s here. The other assholes are dead. Isn’t that enough considering everything else we’ve been through?”

He blinked, eyes wide before the x’s came back. “Guess you’re right.” He sighed after a long moment’s hesitation. “Admitting you love someone is always a little scary. It’s actually… Saying it. Once it’s there, you can’t take it back.”

Usually, she’d have something witty for him to cackle on. But, this was an actual heart to heart he was attempting to have here. “Do you love Marcus?” She asked, looking over at him with an arched eyebrow. She searched the mask, watching the kaleidoscope of lights before it settled with an unusual “u_u” Expression.

“Since I first laid eyes on him.”

Wrench got heart eyes, and it was for the gorgeous golden-skinned man who hacked into the FBI’s mainframe and entered a backdoor for him to get back into, and he hacked his way right into Wrench’s dark little heart. A man of action, and promise, and passion. And he had a mouth made for sucking. Smiling to himself, he reached over to brush his fingers over the top of his sitting above the blanket. His eyelids fluttered - and sobering shock of lightning throttled up the middle of his spine when Marcus began to wriggle.

His electronic eyes grew into wide circles, holding his breath when he came around. “Wrench, that you, man?” Unable to help it, he threw himself at him, arms tight around his neck. He breathed out his name in such a heavily devastated whisper the hipster felt his heart shatter. Then, a sniffle. His arms tightened when he threatened to move - even if it was to adjust his arm hanging in the splint. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” He promised with a lighthearted smile.

“You almost did.” He responded, looking over his shoulder to see if any of the others have heard the commotion yet. “Do you care to tell me exactly what the fuck you were thinking about going by yourself? Did you not notice that we were not alone on this whole foiled plan, thing?”

Marcus breathed out an irritated sigh as agitation prickled at the surface of his skin and his nerves. “I was too late. I was just going to scope out, I didn’t think…” He broke off when one of his muscles in his side clenched up tight causing him to throw his back up in protest, involuntarily. “Fuck!” He cried out, adding a dry, pained laugh. “Fuck, they got me good.”

“I burned them to the ground.” He announced with a grin, the carets coming to his eyes. “All of them exposed for what they were.” He snickered mischievously, yet oh so gleefully as if it was his greatest achievement. He dressed an arm around Marcus’s core where he cradled it against his body. “Most of all, you’re safe…” He muttered eyes lowered in the familiar “u_u”, bent up around him.

“Thanks to you.” He rasped, evenly intending every account he maintained. “Had it not been for you…”

“I’d have to kill you twice for gettin’ yourself killed.” And stilled him when he raised his mask, exposing just how red-ringed and traumatized he seemed beneath. There was no trace of hilarity on his profile, his eyes troubled by the doubts corporally displaying before him presently. He almost didn’t come home to him. Marcus felt his heart give a sickening boot when he saw the glimmering apprehension composed in his orbs.

“Wrench,” He began, bringing him down in a romantic, delicate kiss that bolted with every passionate power he could gather in the fashion the anarchist’s hands trembled when he placed his palms over his. Neither said anything, just let their wandering hands and wanting mouths conference instead. He wanted to drink him all in, feel him against him selfishly against him in every single way. “I’m sorry, man.” He whispered, collecting a fistful of ash blond hair fluttering his hood down when he pressed their temples together that way. “I’m sorry.”

“I haven’t had many good things in my life, but you’re one of the only things besides… Besides what we got at DedSec.” He fiddled with the mask in his hand, eyeballing it. He slid it back on, finding it so much lighter to be… Him. “You’re every reason of why we do what we do, you swooped in ready to make a change, and your heart is pure.” Little delighted carets peered across his eyes, and he took his hand, “I found my best friend. I love you, M.”

The words touched him so deeply because they’d always said it to each other. They’re best friends, it’s what they do. This one, though, was very much different. “I love you too.” Just when Wrench’s fingers folded through his the crowd of the DedSec family drew in, girdling him with similar faces of satisfaction, smugness with Sitara when she spotted the two, and genuine love. This was his weird dysfunctional little family, and… He was all right with it.

 

 

 


End file.
